


Kiss Me, Sunshine

by reaping_mae



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Bad Things Happen to Cecil Palmer, Blood and Gore, Hanahaki AU, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Strexcorp, bitch just ain't lucky, mainly all in season/arc 1, sorry kevin fans... had to do it for the plot, strex!kevin, takes place before the strex takeover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27800746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reaping_mae/pseuds/reaping_mae
Summary: A new scientist comes to town, Cecil narrating the events as they unfold. It's not long before the 'Voice of Night Vale' himself finds himself falling for the new town resident, but it looks like that love comes with a price.And it looks like it might cost Cecil is beloved job, too.
Relationships: Carlos & Cecil Palmer, Carlos/Cecil Palmer, Cecil Palmer & Intern
Kudos: 13





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So before we get started, know that I have yet to finish writing this fic in its entirety. I am planning on posting once a week, and have written about to the halfway mark in the story, so if I stay on track then hopefully I should finish the story in time to keep my consistant uploading schedule. Then again, who knows ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> This is technically chapter 0 as it is an introduction, so the next chapter will be much longer.  
> Thanks! :)

For as long as he could remember, Cecil never let himself be the first to fall in love in a relationship. He was scared-- No, terrified of what would happen if someone were to never reciprocate his feelings and instead broke his heart. Love is a rare and precious thing, and for anyone to fall into it is a blessing on its own. For anyone to fall into love only for it to leave them on the floor in pieces, shattered by who their heart had chosen to follow… well, Cecil means it when he says he never allows himself to be the first to fall in love. He just can’t afford heartbreak. No one can.

From kindergarten kisses to teenage crushes, Cecil waited for  _ ‘that perfect someone’ _ to walk into his life and for  _ them _ to fall in love first. Of course, that was destined to change. He just didn’t know it yet. He didn’t know it until he was well into his (so far) successful career as ‘The Voice of Night Vale’, or so everyone in town called him. He didn’t know it until The Scientist and his team ventured into town, Cecil narrating the events as they unraveled. The moment he had seen The Scientist’s perfect hair, his perfect teeth, perfect smile and skin, Cecil knew he was in trouble.

Furthermore, Cecil didn’t yet know just exactly how much trouble he was getting himself into. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was also cross posted on my WTNV tumblr account: @wt-nvdb but my main is @reaping-mae so go hmu?


	2. That's  Not Normal... Even for Night Vale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil needs a nap. And a hug.

Carlos. The Scientist’s name was Carlos. What a sweet and perfect name for such a sweet and perfect man. Cecil sighed into the microphone and leaned his head in the palm of his hand, daydreaming of the scientist. The weather segment would be over in a little under thirty seconds; it would be best if he began preparing the traffic update he had received via telepathy mere minutes ago, but Cecil just couldn’t bring himself out of his head. He sighed again, a little giggle working its way from his smiling lips.

A few knocks on the glass to Cecil’s booth woke him from his trance. Turning to see what the fuss was about, Intern Whitney was waving wildly and frantically pointing at a lit up ‘On Air’ sign. His eyes widening, Cecil rushed back to his microphone and began apologizing to his listeners, claiming, “Oh, you know how life is. I must have gotten sucked into an endless time loop where today’s weather just kept playing over and over and  _ over _ again! Good thing I had Intern Whitney to pull me out.” He chuckled nervously, hoping his lie would pass off as realistic enough. From his peripheral, he could see Intern Whitney rolling her eyes on the other side of the glass. “Now, it seems we have got an urgent update on today's traffic…”

“Really, Mr. Palmer?” Intern Whitney deadpanned over the mic from the studio. “‘Sucked into an endless time loop’?”

Cecil leaned back in his chair, glad the day’s show was finished. “What? It’s believable enough.”

“You and I both know how very illegal time loops are in radio stations. No one will believe you.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s fine. It was just a few moments of silence after the weather had finished. Nothing to get upset over.”

“I don’t even think I’m allowed to get verbally upset with you.” Intern Whitney pondered out loud, “You  _ are _ my boss, after all.”

“Of course you are allowed to be upset with me! Everyone should voice their thoughts if they are having issues at work. Besides, even if you weren’t upset, you know we banter all the time. You’re like a second niece to me.” Cecil smiled.

“And you my undenyingly gay uncle. Though only a niece? With not only the amount of times I’ve nearly died for your ass but being one of the longest working interns at this station you’d think I’d be at daughter status!” she exclaimed.

“To be fair, I’ve never had a daughter. So…”

“Oh, true.” Intern Whitney quieted until remembering what she originally was trying to tell Cecil. “Right! Back to what I was saying: I’m not upset ‘cause of the spacing out thing. I’m  _ upset  _ because you kept sighing and giggling like a high schooler into the damn mic. In the middle of the weather segment. Do you know how distracting that is?”

Cecil laughed, “The microphone was off, silly. Am I really that bad a teacher that you don’t remember the microphone is always turned off during pre-recorded bits? Or do you just have poor studying habits?”

“You forgot to turn the microphone off, Mr. Palmer.” Intern Whitney frowned, watching as Cecil’s smile faded from his face. “And FYI, I am  _ well _ on my way to graduating from NVCC. Keep forgetting to turn the microphone off and it looks like Night Vale will have themselves a new voice on the radio.”

“Don’t get too cocky now,” Cecil retorted, his voice a tad smaller than it was before. He stood up and cracked his back, grimacing not from pain, but because Station Management will have his throat if he kept forgetting to turn his sound off. Literally. Station Management will literally cut out his throat and lock it in a safe for a week as punishment.  _ ‘Don’t want that to turn into a habit, now do we?’  _ Cecil thought. His brain then reminded him of Carlos and all of his radiating beauty, and Cecil let a little smile slip from his lips.

“Steady now Romeo, don’t want your love for Juliet to advance so far so quick it ends in both your deaths, do we?” Intern Whitney spoke into her mic on the other side of the glass, using one hand to press on the intercom button and the other to slide her belongings into her purse.

“Please, we both know my ego is so big I’m Macbeth.” 

“More like Macduff. I know how supportive you are of me. You just don’t like to show it.”

“But isn’t Macbeth the one who brought about his own downfall in the end?” Cecil questioned, pocketing his own personal items and making way for the studio door.

“You planning on bringing about your downfall anytime soon?” Intern Whitney laughed, opening the door for him.

Cecil stopped to think about why he said that. “Not that I know of?” He questioned.

“Then what makes you say..?”

“I got a little message...” He tapped on his forehead and winked. “...right up here.” 

Intern Whitney gave a fond shake of her head, watching as Cecil made his way through the door and grabbed the last few of his things, like his phone and keys. “Goodnight, Mr. Palmer.” 

“‘Night, Whit.” Cecil called back, reorganizing a few folders and filing away the day's transcripts.

“Don’t get so caught up in thinking of Dream Boy that you forget to finish your work! I don’t wanna walk in tomorrow morning to see you in today’s outfit drooling all over  _ my  _ papers.” Intern Whitney called from the end of the hall.

Cecil smiled at her comment and listened as the door to the front of the station slammed shut, leaving him all alone in what felt like a building of dangerous hallways, an intricate system of mazes. A labyrinth, if you will. Though Cecil is, of course, never alone. That is if the rumors of Station Management living in their office is true. Well, that and the common invisible rats that chew holes in the wall and drink your coffee when you aren’t looking.

Nearly an hour of solid paper filing and segment research passed until Cecil’s mind began wandering elsewhere. First of what he could make as a calming snack when he got back home. He had just bought that new wheat and wheat by-product free butterfly milk, hadn’t he? That might taste good mixed in with honey and Nightshade tea. Then he began to think of how his mother used to make that for him all the time before his internship at NVCR. On nights when it felt cold and dark. When shadows that leaked void on young cecil’s plush carpet, clawing their way from under his bed and digging their blood-crusted talons in his mattress as they dragged themselves out from the mysterious portal that spawned in every child’s bedroom on alternating days. Cecil’s mother would rush in with a broom at the sound of Cecil’s cries, swat the monsters away, and carry him to the kitchen where she’d fix up a nice cup of Nightshade tea. He smiled at the memories.

Though Cecil knew the night at the office had turned from late to ‘I need sleep’ when his thoughts took a sharp turn from light and reminiscent to dark and heart wrenching.

Instead of delightful butterfly milk and tea, it was the aftermath of his mother’s denial, and his lonely nights spent hiding under the covers with tears streaming down his face as he cried over reasons he didn’t know why his mother hid. As he cried over the idea that him and his sister were growing further apart. As he cried over how no one would ever reciprocate his love. And there in the radio station, in dim lights and quiet labyrinths, Cecil felt a sharp pang of hurt. He still felt that loneliness. He still felt as though no one could ever love him back. It may have been childish, he knew, but still. The idea that not Janice, not Abby, not Old Woman Josie, not even Steve Carlsberg would love him back. Dare he say it, not even Carlos-

Cecil felt an uncomfortable tickle in the back of his throat, just noticeable enough to draw him from the dark depths of his mind and realize his face was wet. Had he been crying? Clearing his throat, Cecil sniffled and began sorting papers away and back to their respective drawers and cabinets. 

The strange tickle in his throat never went away, no matter how many times he coughed or cleared the phlegm from it, but then again neither did the ever persistent idea of self-deprecation and dred.  _ ‘Heh,’  _ Cecil thought,  _ ‘Nothin’ like a good ol’ sad-joke to get you out of that mindset.’  _

It wasn’t until much later at home, after he had finished his mug of Nightshade and butterfly milk tea, that Cecil had coughed up the petal of a Carnation; dripping with thick, slimy saliva. Only then did Cecil begin thinking about that little ever-present tickle in the back of his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've never written a hanahaki fic before. sue me.


End file.
